Little Moments
by thecrazystorywriter14
Summary: Nick Wilde has a crush on Judy Hopps, ever since he met her at the corny ice cream parlor. He finally has the courage to tell her, and because he does so he begins to realize that he can further cherish every little moment he experiences. He soon begins to notice that Judy is doing the same... Inspired by Brad Paisley's "Little Moments."
1. Permission

**Little Moments**

 **Written and Edited by thecrazystorywriter14**

 **A first person story, told in the mind of Nick Wilde**

I think back to a dream I had the previous night: Judy and I at a podium, staring into an audience of mammals. Suddenly, as if it had been strategically planned, the spectators began chuckling. I thought it was a good joke someone had told in the audience, but my eyes dropped to my heart in horror as I saw a few pointing directly at me. I looked down at myself and discovered I wore nothing but underwear. When I woke in a cold sweat, I wondered why such a corny dream had entered my mind.

I feel my face flush as I examine myself in the mirror and straighten my tie on my blue uniform. The dream had been so strange, almost lucid. Of course I could feel the embarrassment in the dream, but the reality of the dream was that it was really quite nothing. But even so, I omit the dream from my memory and plan not to mention it to Judy. I exit my bedroom for the next countless time, smirking as I stride down the stairs, two at a time.

Judy turns to look at me. "Good morning, Nick," she says, a grin on her face.

"Rise and shine, Carrots." I greet, walking past her and into the kitchen, opening the fridge.

I had an aunt growing up. She'd always look at me in the eyes and ask me a question that I couldn't answer, so I would give her a half-baked answer. Obviously she hated my excuses and scolded me, saying that if I kept answering like that, I'd fail high school and end up on the street.

And man, was she right. I dropped out as a Junior, a week before graduating in Savannah Central High.

That's why I hated my aunt so much. So much so, I was happy hearing of her death a couple years before I met Judy.

After dropping out of high school I ended up on the street hustling popsicles to try to earn enough money to support myself. I ended up becoming so experienced at hustling, I earned two-hundred bucks a day. I had already started around age twelve, sneaking out of the house routinely. I did as such as often as I could until twenty years after, three weeks after my thirty-second birthday.

A bunny dressed in a tight police uniform walked up to me at a corny ice cream shop. A little part of me was suddenly attracted to her, but I pushed it away quickly. When she paid for my popsicle because I said I "lost" my wallet, I was not surprised. I managed to almost get away with hustling her, and a few days later, after Bellwether was arrested, Judy convinced me to join the police academy. I told her that I couldn't because I had dropped out of high school.

Well, she helped me with that, too. I spent a year in backup school (which Judy paid for without my permission), learning and taking many exams. I made it out with a high school diploma. After that, I told her I was ready for the academy.

Training was strenuous and time-consuming. Can't tell you how many embarrassing locker room moments, humiliating parkour fails, and scoldings there were.

But Judy stood with me during the whole predicament. She became my instructor and trained me for a couple months until I just barely passed the law enforcement exam with a seventy-nine percent. I made it into law enforcement sixteen months after the Night Howler case.

And well, that's me in a nutshell.

I return to preparing my quick breakfast before we left. I look at the wall, pausing for a moment. The wall of my grandma's house , in which I had moved into when she died. It had a quite low tax rate and I was somewhat able to support it with my unspecified salary. Judy volunteered to help, and that's why we live together in the same house. She sleeps in my grandma's old bedroom and I sleep in my old room my grandma kept in shape when I came over occasionally as a kid.

Judy looks at me like a kid looks at a plate of broccoli, in which I was staring at the wall absurdly. "You love that wall more than me now?" A fresh prepared cream cheese bagel laid in her open paw.

"Of course not," I reply, my face burning. I douse my cereal in milk and walk to where Judy sat, her half-eaten cream cheese bagel in her hand . She ignores me as I sit down and take a bite of my breakfast.

We finish up and quickly scamper out the door to the police cruiser waiting outside. We arrive a few minutes later at the ZPD and enter the station. It smelled of donuts and coffee, merely because Officer Ben Clawhauser greedily binging on donuts at the front desk.

I walk past him, quickly, and Judy joins me as we enter the Bullpen.

Most of the officers call it as such, as we always meet in room A1, behind Clawhauser's desk, at 8:30 in the morning, sharp. Officers call it the Bullpen because our boss, named Chief Bogo, who always meets us there for attendance and assignments.

We enter the Bullpen and sit down at the front row, dexter on the border of the center aisle. According to Bogo, since we are "smaller proportioned compared to the larger officers," we both share a seat.

Bogo enters quickly and frowns as he examines the room, the officers calmly conversing with each other.

Bogo slams his fist on the desk in a normal rage. "Quiet," he yells. His worst pet peeve is contravening, so the conversations fall silent.

Bogo dons his reading glasses and examines the stack of papers in front of him. "We've got one item on the docket," he says, "Assignments for the day." He holds up a stack of papers. "Take one each, and work as hard as you can to get it done."

A little more explaining and he dismisses. I pick up the paper assigned to me and Judy and scan it.

Savannah central patrol.

I grin a little bit. I love that job. It's my favorite, by far. "I love this assignment," I say to her, "It reminds me of the day I hustled you." I ignore the glare she gives me.

Okay, maybe that statement wasn't completely true. I smile again, bounding off the seat like myself as a ten year old hearing of a free box of Hopps family grown blueberries. Judy immediately takes notice and smiles after we both exit the Bullpen. "Hey. What's the excitement about?"

Through the daydreaming, I say, "blueberries." She looks at me oddly and cocks an eyebrow. "Pardon?"

I shake my head back into reality. "Sorry. I meant to say that your family farm stand is up in Savannah Central today. And you know how much I love those blueberries."

Her face falls. "I forgot to tell you, my parents decided against coming here today. They called this morning, and I just forgot to mention it."

I sigh sadly and my face drops. Here we go, I thought. "Oh," I mumble in disappointment and follow her out the door.

I thought work would be fun at first. Well, until I found out about the Hopps Farm thing. And that we can only stop for a lunch break. And knowing me, I have a abnormally small bladder for a fox my size. Of course I've never told anyone, but I'm sure it became painfully obvious to Judy today and probably every other day. She declined an urgent request until lunch, when I hastily sprinted to the bathroom to relieve myself.

We also spent the afternoon with no interruptions. I found it relatively easy to stay on the job for four more hours until the same, urgent need hastily pounded at me. I was able to ignore it for a little until a little over six.

I shake the urgent feeling off as I enter our two-story house with Judy at my side. I excuse myself and walk upstairs. "I'm changing," I had told her.

As soon as I slowly descended the staircase, I looked at Judy, staring at the phone in her hand. She sat with her legs crossed, her ears pointing erect and still dressed in her patrol uniform. She looks up quickly and frowns. "Hey again, Nick. I see you went upstairs to get dressed, but you didn't even get dressed."

I chuckle, looking down at myself. "I really am beside myself today, aren't I?" I really had just been so distracted with my urgent feeling to relieve myself that I completely forgot about it.

She giggles. "Yep."

Suddenly I looked at her face, smiling. A warm feeling surrounded me, a feeling wanting to hug her and just hold her. To satisfy it, I asked:

"Do you mind if I get a hug? I can't perform at optimum performance until I get it." I hold my arms weakly out to her. I could have merely asked for a hug without an explanation and still would've gotten the same. That's the one thing that I love about her. She's probably one of the best huggers in the world.

She laughs and then smiles, practically bounding off the hardwood floor and into my chest.

I thought she would kiss me; but she dodged my face with her head and whole-heartily embraced me. I returned the embrace at the same force. This made me wonder: how good of a kisser is she?

I almost laugh at myself as quickly diminish the absurd thought. _You really are crazy today, Nick._

I sit on the table, and a very familiar, urgent, craving feeling encompasses me. "I'm starving, Carrots."

She plants her hand on the counter and frowns. "You know what, I am too. I have an idea for dinner too."

"Can I help?" I ask.

"There's not too much you can do. I'll cut you some slack and let you keep up on your social media or whatever you do on your phone."

Shortly after she starts dinner, she places something - looks like cornbread - into the oven and lost track of time. Only way I knew that was because the smoke detectors harmoniously blared in my poor little fox ears.

I looked over at Judy as soon as the first alarm erupted. Her hands were in her face, and she looked like she was ready to cry. I felt really bad for her, being that she had forgot to take the food from the oven. I didn't feel any anger toward her; but yet, I felt compassion. It was like I suddenly could take any stressful situation and change it into love and compassion.

I quickly walk up to her and take her into my chest. "You're okay, Carrots." I whisper into her ear and squeeze her tightly. "You're not perfect, and I'm really darn glad that you aren't. You know how boring it would be?"

She wipes her face on my shoulder. "You're not mad?"

I almost scoff, but stop. "Of course not, Carrots. I'd succomb to your cuteness before I'd ever be mad at you."

She sighs and backs out of our embrace. "You know that we don't like tha-"

"Shhh..." I say, touching my finger to her mouth. "Judy, the only reason why I became your friend because I had a crush on you. Don't I have the right to call you cute if I have a crush on you?" I feel my face warm.

She blushes. "I didn't know you felt that way about me..." She smiles. "Alright. I'll make an exception with you, and I'll allow you to call me cute - under one exception."

"And that is?" I ask eagerly, careful not to show it too much.

"You can only call me cute around us. Nobody else."

I nod, half-listening. "Okay, sure. I'll keep it that way." In reality, I barely was able to collect what she had said. I assumed it wasn't too important.

"Well, how 'bout we get to eating whatever we have for dinner? I only ruined the cornbread."

Suspicions true, I smirk. "So that's what it was. What's the main course?"

"It's a recipe passed down though generations, called cheese-carrot cornbread. Its cheese and carrot soup kind of a thing spread onto cornbread. Fortunately, the sauce without the cornbread is cheese-carrot soup."

I nod. "Good. Hope its good."

We eat, and it was as delicious as I suspected. We talked for short time and decide on watching a movie. That leads to another whole conversation, whether to watch my personal favorite, X-Mammals, or Judy's favorite, Zitanic.

She won, of course. We settled on the couch and she started the movie. She sat beside me for a moment, then asked, "do you mind if I lay next to you?"

I agree quickly - actually being quite joyful that she had asked - and she moves in front of me, laying her head on my right arm. I smile after being sure she was looking at the screen. I then bend down to her and plant a kiss on the top of her head.

I expected her to do something about it, and she did, but not as dramatically as I expected. She simply looked up at me, stood from where she laid, kissed me on the top of my furry head, then returned to where she laid, head resting on my right arm.

I liked it. I liked her romantic comeback to me kissing her on her head, her chuckles during the comedic scenes, her light sniffs during the depressing scenes, and grabbing onto my arm slightly during the frightening scenes. Not like I minded, though. I preferred that she did that during every movie we watched.

Finally, a few minutes before the movie ended, she falls asleep on my arm. My arm ached and was numb from the right of her head, but she looked so angelic that I couldn't move my arm, for I would risk her waking up and losing her angelic slumber look.

I chose the best bet of the situation and planted a light kiss on her forehead before leaning back to fall asleep on the couch. I'd dreamed of this moment, and it finally came true.

 _Man, this is going to be a good relationship._

* * *

 **Hello, guys, CrazyWriter here. I thank anybody who has read this chapter. I will publish a new chapter between the time periods of 3 days and three months.** **If you want to give me suggestions, please do so, and anybody who also wants to ask a question, to add something to this current chapter or suggest something for a future chapter, please PM me or send me an email (address is in my profile) and I will get back to you as soon as I can. Any constructive criticism is appreciated, but please try to avoid flares, as they will not be tolerated and will be immediately removed/reported. Thank you for your cooperation.**

 **NOTE: Guest reviews cannot be replied to. If you wish to allow me to reply to you, please review with an authorized FanFiction account.**

 **Disclaimer: I am not involved in the creation, distribution, or design of any of the characters, settings, or personalities involved with any characters. The reused characters are a property of Disney© and Disney Animation Studios©.**


	2. Game

**Here's Chapter 2 for y'all! I will be working on a Zootopia Christmas special - a whole new story - which will be released Dec 25. Wait till then to receive any further pieces.**

* * *

 **Chapter 2: Game**

"Nicholas Piberius Wilde, get over here!"

I wake on the couch, my arm no longer in debilitating conundrum. It takes a minute for my brain to process her words, I realize the trouble I'm in. Oh, no. When Judy calls me by my full first name, that means bad news. My full name? Even worse. I walk from the living room up to the kitchen, cogitating why I had given her my full name in the first place. I don't even know hers. She looked at my application form to the ZPD before I turned it in and found it. Hers had already been turned in months before, so I was out of luck.

I trudge to the kitchen, staring into her eyes. I notice her paw, with an outstretched finger pointing at the ground. There in its direction is puddle of red-yellow translucent liquid. "What is this?"

"A puddle," I say vaguely.

"Explain," she replies calmly, a strain in her voice.

"I may or may not have invited Finnick over at about 10 last night for a little game."

She frowns. "And how exactly did this 'game' lead to a puddle on the ground?"

I decide whether or not to continue. I decide to continue. "We had these things called 'pawpsicle shots.' He brought over a jar of it, we put it in shot cups, then mixed a few of 'em with mustard. We mixed 'em up and took a turn drinking one each. Whoever threw up lost." And I wanted to add that someone actually did throw up, but decided against it. I knew that it was obvious already.

Judy's eyes widen. "So that puddle is..." she stares at it for a moment and groans. "Throw up."

I smile. "You've got it. Finnick also knew exactly which cups had mustard, and gave 'em all to me. Let's say I lost fifty dollars last night - and my dinner."

She gags. "That's yours?" She motions to it again.

"Let's not talk about it. Are you gonna stand there, or are you gonna clean it up?"

Her eyes widen. "Heck no," she leaves the room and returns with a mop and a bucket of water. "It's your throw up, therefore you clean it up. Excuse me as I go recollect myself on how dumb some foxes are." She leaves the room and shuts her bedroom door.

I mop up the puddle on the ground as I ponder that night. I knew I shouldn't have bet him the money. The first shot I drank, as it dropped down my esophagus and into my stomach, I could feel my stomach instantly regret it. I ended up throwing up by the second shot, giving Finnick his money and going to bed feeling nauseous, forgetting completely about the puddle on the ground.

I finish up and put the mop away. I decide to attempt apologizing to Judy. I walk over to her door and knock. "Judy? It's Nick."

No answer.

I try again. "I know it wasn't the most appropriate thing to do, but you know boys can be boys."

This time she answered. "You're really sorry? If I were to tell you to do something for me right now, would you do it?"

I absolutely hate it when she does this. The last time I tried to apologize, she made me drive her to a movie. The thing is, it was my deepest hatred of movies - Floatzen. She's 24 and still enjoys watching movies that are made for mammals a third of her age and under.

"Sure," I say, because I had no choice. If I said no, she'd hate me for the rest of the day. Say yes, and I could possibly end up watching Floatzen again.

She opens the door. "I want you to kneel down, right here."

I do so without complaining. "Now what?" My snout was in her face.

"Go a little lower," She says, and I do so. She grabs one of my ears and starts rubbing it between her two paws. She does so for about two minutes before stopping. I refrain from acknowledging that it felt comforting and relieving, just in case.

"Happy?" I say, starting to stand up.

"Not yet," she says, and I bend back down. "I want to you to turn around."

I do so. She climbs onto my back and puts her right leg on the right side of my neck, and her left on the left side of my neck. She reaches her arms around my neck and junctions them at the anterior side of my neck, near my voice box. "Now what?" I say.

"Woah," she says, her paws now over the part of my neck containing my voice box. "Do that again."

"Do what?" I say, and she giggles. I could feel the pressure of her weight on my neck.

"It feels funny when you talk. Your neck vibrates when I put my hands over your voice box."

"So should I stay squatting like a little kid at gym class, it do you want me to stand?" I choke. "You're kinda choking me."

"Sorry," she says, moving her hands and reaching them over my forehead and again junctioning them. "You can stand, by the way."

I feel my weight shift on my shoulders as I ascend. She giggles a little. "This is fun."

I feel my face warm. "I'd normally enjoy doing this with one of your little sisters."

She gasps. "That's a great idea! Let's go visit my parents."

Oh, no.

My eyes widen. "What? I didn't want to encourage anything!"

She ignores me, judging by what I feel on my shoulders. "Carry me out to my car."

I sigh as I walk out the door and close it behind me, one hand gripping Judy's leg to prevent her from falling. I walk over to her car - a blue Nizzan Verza S Zedan, which she bought a month earlier - and pick her up by the underarms and lower her to the ground. "Thanks." She runs over to the other side, unlocks the car, and gets in. I join her by sitting myself in the passenger's seat.

Why am I not driving? Because I don't like to. I can't trust myself to assist on others' behalf. I also can't afford a car.

Does Judy trust me behind the wheel? Probably. Have I asked her? No.

I pull out my phone as she pulls out of the driveway. "You want to take the shuttle to Bunnyburrow?"

"Let me check the prices," I do so. "There's a departure at 11," I say, glancing at the clock, which said 10:32. "Thirty dollars per adult."

"Sure," Judy says.

I buy the tickets before she has any chance to intervene. "Bought 'em for us."

She sighs. "I could've bought them."

"It's okay," I object. "You're too nice anyway."

"Thanks," she puts her right hand atop my left. I smile a little, looking out the window. I turn my hand upwards and weave her fingers in between mine, then hold her hand.

"Your hand's warm," she says, moving her index finger across my knuckle. "I like it."

"Will it get warmer if I do this?" I say, kissing her on the wrist.

She smiles. "Even though gentlemammals did that a hundred years ago, I still like it."

"I'll do it more often." I kiss her hand again.

We board the shuttle two minutes before departure. I sit next to Judy at a table, the other side empty.

Suddenly a bunny plopped down in front of us and occupied the empty seat. "Hello, y'two. Name's Samuel."

We both shake his hand. "I'm Nick, and this is Judy," I say. "We're on a trip to visit her family."

He nods. "I don'wnt to get too creepy, but are you guys married, friends?"

She smiles. "He's just my boyfriend," she pats me lightly on the back. "Wish we were a little farther though."

My eyes widen at the first statement. She actually considers me a minor romantic partner? Yes. I like it. And she wishes we were a little farther? Its not like I'm planning to dump her.

"Hmm," Samuel nods. "I'm visiting a few down in Bunnyburrow also."

She smiles. "You've ever heard of the Hopps Family Farm?"

His smiles. "Yeah. I go there evry'day for a morning carrot."

She sits erect and proudly. "My parents are the owners."

I sigh as I palm my face. Not only is she giving her identity to some creep, she's giving him her relationships - our relationship specifically.

She ignores me and Samuel's eyes widen. "That's incredible. Say, I'd like to come catch up on a'few later. I'd like to see if we could go out sometime."

That got her mad. She kept her cool, but I saw her anger. "No," she laughs nervously. "I'm taken at the moment." She leans next to my forearm. "Nice m'tn you. G'day." She says as he stands up and walks away.

Now its not like I'm not mad. I'm mad all right. When he said that, I felt like I should just walk over and punch his little face in.

She looks me in the eyes. "Keep me away from that guy, alright?"

I rub the top of her head. "Don't worry," I laugh nervously. "Some people are creeps like that."

"But I know you're not a creep," she kisses my hand. "Because you protect me."

"Well, that's what boyfriends are for, right?"

We get to Bunnyburrow in an hour. The train stops and I lead Judy out. The large porch to the house was empty, surprising considering she had so many siblings, or so I assumed.

"So, how many siblings do you have?"

"275," she says quickly as she opens the door to the house. "Enjoy."

Instantly, at least two hundred bunnies jump onto me and pull me into the house, throwing me onto the ground in a furry mess. I try to remove the bunnies, but they keep on coming.

Until I hear a sharp whistle beside me, and they all retreat.

I see Judy talking to her mother, and her father with two fingers in his mouth - most likely the source of the sound.

Judy's mom walks up to me. "I don't know if you saw, but I overreacted when I discovered you're her boyfriend," she reaches her arm out. "Bonnie Hopps."

I shake her hand. "Prob'ly already know, but my name's Nick Wilde."

"I know," she says as I exchange greetings with Judy's father, Stu. As soon as I conclude, Bonnie calls attention to the bunnies, saying something about that I'm a 'trusted predator' and I needed to be treated with respect.

The moment she released them, I was surprised to only see a few walk up to me. One looked into my eyes. "Mr. Fox," she said, "I'm Lily. Can you wead to my brothers and sistews?"

I smile at her adorable accent. "Suwre," I mock, pointing to the front room. "Go get a book and I'll read -"

She pulls a book from behind her back. "Hewre."

I walk over to the front room and sit crisscross on the ground, inviting a few of the smaller bunnies to sit on my lap. The book I read was about a fox - ironically - who comes from the country and visits the city and has to adapt to city customs. It really was a good book.

After reading I get riddled with questions, most of them unrelated to the book.

"Mr. Fox, have you ever been here before?" One older bunny named Tristan says.

"Nope," I reply.

"Mr. Fox," Tristan asks again, "Are you and Judy gonna get married?"

"I dunno," I say. "Maybe."

"Mr. Fox, what's your name?" Tristan asks for the third time.

I sigh. "You can call me Mr. Fox, but my real name's Nick."

"Nick what?"

"Nick Wilde."

"Does that mean," Another bunny butts in. "If you get married to Judy, her name'll be Judy Wilde?"

"Yep. Okay, I think that's enough que-"

I get riddled with so many more that I am forced to answer many more, completely pointless questions. It took so long that Bonnie cut me some slack and excused the kids for lunch.

"That was quite a show you put on," Judy says to me. "You're pretty good with kids. I heard a few talkin' about us getting married."

"Yep." I feel my face get hot.

"This is just a hypothetical situation, but if we were married and had a few kids, I think you'd be a pretty good parent to 'em." She kisses me on the cheek.

"Thanks," I say. I feel my face warm, as I was in the presence of Judy's parents and was unsure of their reaction as I walk over to them and chat for a minute, and in the meantime Bonnie pops a question.

"Me 'nd Judy were talking while you were reading to the kids. She wants you to spend the night with us."

I swallow the lump that formed in my throat. "S-stay the night?" I say, thinking. "If Judy wanted me to stay, she'd ask me to pack."

Bonnie smiles. "Don't y'worry about that. Judy'll figure something out. She has a few oversized clothes she'll probably lend you."

"I guess it's done," I smile. "I guess I can stay the night."

"Great," Bonny says. "Say, would you like some lunch?"

"Sure. What's for lunch?"

"We have an assortment of jams and jellies, peanut butter, and lots of homegrown fruits 'nd veggies."

My eyes widen. "Oh. I'll ha-"

Judy interrupts me. "He wants a peanut and blueberry jam sandwich, carrots and blueberries on the side. Oh - and give him some of that blueberry pie Gideon brought us this morning."

Bonny looks at me. "Did she sum it up for you?"

My jaw was still weighed open from her psychic ability to read minds. I wanted everything she said. "Yeah. Get me everything she said, but do you mind giving me double the blueberries?"

"Sure," Bonny says, scurrying off to the kitchen.

I look at Judy, smiling. I wave my hand in my direction, walking toward the couch. She follows me and sits next to me.

"How'd you know what I wanted?" I say, perplexed. Her nose twitched slightly, signifying her nervousness.

"You told me that one day, remember? You said that you liked peanut butter and blueberry jam sandwiches and blueberry pie." She replies.

"How'd you guess the carrots?"

She smiles. "Usually the first thing most mammals choose," she winks at me, her nose twitching again. She starts smelling the air. "What's that smell?"

"What smell?" I say. "Does it smell nice?"

"Yes, it smells good," she replies. "It smells like a grove of orange trees."

I raise my eyebrows, impressed. "That's my cologne."

Her eyebrows raise at me. "You wear cologne? What's it called?"

"Orange Daylight," I say. "I assumed you would like it, since you're a farmer and all."

She winks at me again, patting me on the back. "It's nice," she says, looking at my snout this time.

"What?" I say.

"I never noticed that," she stands from her spot on the couch, looking atop my snout. She runs her finger vertically, up and down, in between my eyes. I object with, "what are you doing?"

She smiles as she continues this action. "You have a divot that runs from the top of your forehead down to your nose. It's strangely addicting to touch..."

I push her away, my face warming again. "Please stop, Carrots. I'd prefer if you'd do that away from your parents' presence..."

She stops and walks off the couch. "See you outside."

I grab my plate Bonny prepared and walk outside and join Judy on a blanket in the grass. She smiles at she watches me eat. "Say, I never noticed that before."

"What?" I say, not looking at her. "Another divot in my skull?"

"No, but you look pretty cute when you eat."

I nod. "Maybe so," I switch the subject before it became too awkward. "You want to try a bite of this pie?"

"Sure."

I spoon a piece of pie onto my fork and put it into Judy's mouth. She smiles. "Tastes good," she licks her mouth. "It does taste a little odd with fox spit on it, though.."

I laugh. "I put that fork in my mouth once. Either my saliva is extremely rich, or I'm salivating more than normal. Anyway, in that case, you can use your own fork from now on."

We spend a little outside in the yard, watching the kids play out in the woods. I finish my food and join Judy at the swing by the house.

She smiles as I approach and pats the cushion next to her. I sit where she signified and she puts her hand over my shoulder after I sit. I rock the swing with my feet as I try to converse with her. She starts first.

"How's my family? Is anybody offending you?"

I shake my head. "Not at all. I love the energy of your siblings."

She nods as she looks out into the forest. "They're rambunctious little scamps, aren't they?"

I nod. "We've got to do something to pass the time, right?"

She smiles. "I dunno what we can do."

I think for a moment. I'm honestly emptier than a bucket of water after a fox spent three days in the desert without it. Speaking of water, "Hey," I say anxiously, putting on a fake smile. "Where's your bathroom?"

She rolls her eyes, muttering something under her breath. "Go through the door, take a left in the hall, and the closest one is the third door on the left."

"Thanks," I say, standing. "See you in a minute." I walk through the door and follow Judy's instructions. "It's the third door on the left," I say to myself. I find it and knock, somebody answers within it. I wait until they emerge. Tristan opens the door a minute later and smiles. "Oh, hey, Nick," she says quickly before I enter.

I emerge later and return to my spot near Judy. She smiles as I return. "Comfortable?" She asks.

"Well, a bathroom's a bathroom. What can'ya say?"

"True," she laughs. "I think it was good having you here."

I smirk. "You're wanting me to leave already? If so, I'd be glad to…"

She shakes her head. "Just came up. Howabout we go play with my siblings?"

"Better than sittin' here and getting older." I say.

We did a lot to waste the afternoon - we played with Judy's siblings, I read them another book (or two, or three) and went on a walk-and-talk with Judy in the woods, along with a few other things. It felt weird, yet satisfying to be out in the country with my friend and to be away from city life. I did get caught staring at my phone a couple times, and Judy firmly told me to put it away.

The afternoon went as fast as ice cream selling during a hot summer day in Zootopia. Dinner arrived and we all had soup. We played a little more until Judy decided it was time to go to bed.

The sun was hiding behind the tree just ahead of the house, revealing a truly beautiful sunset. We went inside to discover most of the kids asleep, and Judy quietly lead me to a bedroom up the stairs, and she turned on the light. The room was omitted from decoration except for a single lamp on a bedstand adjacent to a bed, which was in the corner of the room. The walls were painted a light grey, and I presumed it was a guest room.

"This is our guest room," Judy says to me. "If you're having trouble or such, my room's down the hall, third door on the right from here. It says 'Judy' on it. The bathroom is exactly across from this room - oh, and I need you to follow me for a sec."

I follow her to her room and she opens the top drawer of her dresser. She pulls out a pair of black shorts and a plain white T-shirt. She puts the shirt to my chest and the shorts to my waist to be sure that they fit, which they did. I wished her goodnight and hugged her, then departed to my bedroom.

I changed into my PJs and got into the bed. It felt better than the floor, for a change. I smile as I begin to drift to sleep.

Just on the verge of unconsciousness, I hear a noise. It sounded weird, like a knock.

A knock?

I swing my legs over the side of my bed and walk over to the door. I open it slowly and my eyes widen as I examine the figure before me.

* * *

 **Hello, guys, CrazyWriter here. I thank anybody who has read this chapter. I will publish a new chapter between the time periods of 3 days and three months.** **(As aformentioned, I will be working on a Christmas special, so estimated creation may be subject to change.) If you want to give me suggestions, please do so, and anybody who also wants to ask a question, to add something to this current chapter or suggest something for a future chapter, please PM me or send me an email (address is in my profile) and I will get back to you as soon as I can. Any constructive criticism is appreciated, but please try to avoid flares, as they will not be tolerated and will be immediately removed/reported. Thank you for your cooperation.**

 **NOTE: Guest reviews cannot be replied to. If you wish to allow me to reply to you, please review with an authorized FanFiction account.**

 **Disclaimer: I am not involved in the creation, distribution, or design of any of the characters, settings, or personalities involved with any involved characters or settings already mentioned. The original characters are a property of Disney© and Disney Animation Studios©.**


	3. Worse - Part 1

**PLEASE READ THE LAST PARAGRAPH OF THE AUTHOR'S NOTE AT THE END OF THE STORY. VERY IMPORTANT MESSAGE ENCLOSED.**

* * *

 **Chapter 3: Worse – Part 1**

"Judy?" I say, figuring out her outline in the darkness. "What are you doing here?"

Without responding, she barges into the room and sits on the bed. She looks down at the floor, but doesn't speak. My face falls and I walk over to her and put my paw on her back. "Judy. Something's _wrong_. Please tell me."

She inhales quickly through her nose. "Y-You're three doors down from me, but I feel lonely."

" _Lonely_?" I say, moving my paw in a small circle on her back. "Don't you have your siblings to comfort you? Don't you sleep with your sisters?"

Go sleep with your sisters, _please_. I love you, but I need some alone time. Please.

She shakes her head. "N-no." she begins to sob. I let her sob for at least ten minutes, she puts her head on my shoulder and I try my best to hold back sympathetic tears as she does so.

 _Please_ stop crying.

She takes a deep breath after, and I kiss her on the head. I guess I have no choice.

"You know what? I'll allow you to sleep in here, under one condition." Great. Now I've gotten myself into this. _Goodbye_ , alone time.

She rolls her eyes. "Go ahead. What?"

"Absolutely _no_ romance, nor multiples mammals in one bed. One on the floor, one on the bed; _no_ exceptions."

She groans. "Fine," and she walks out of the room, returning with a blanket and a pillow. She sets them on the floor and sits crisscross on the ground, facing me. "What time is it?"

I look at my phone. "10," I say, smiling. "Which means I'm off to bed. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Wilde."

"Goodnight, Carrots."

I lay with my eyes staring at the ceiling. Why did I _do_ this? Why am I such a _jerk_ to her?

Hopefully tomorrow will be better.

And man, was I wrong.

The next morning, I wake to the room as clean as it was as soon as I entered the night before. Judy was gone; and with enough focus, I heard sounds of commotion downstairs. I changed in the bathroom, and as I approached the staircase I smelled blueberries and flour. And as soon as I conquered the first step, Judy walked right beside me and matched my pace. "Good morning, Nick."

"Hey," I said, still partially unaware. "By the way, do you know what's for breakfast?"

"Blueberry pancakes," she says, grinning after I do. She begins to quicken her pace and conquer the staircase shortly after me. I walk into the kitchen, where Stu and Bonny stood, conversing, while a few kids sat in the living room, playing with their little building blocks.

"Good morning, Nick," Stu says, greeting me with a handshake.

Bonny greets me from the other end of the kitchen, busy mixing a blueberry pancake batter. "Good morning. How'd you sleep?"

"Well, J-" I started, but Judy elbowed me in the ribs. "I mean, it was great."

"That's good to hear," Bonny turns around and loads some batter onto the griddle. "Stu, honey, can you please come help?"

"Oh, sorry," he says, walking over to her. I leave the kitchen and sit on the couch next to the kids playing with toys.

I was surprised to see that not even one of them paid attention to me, like they were designed to. They moved their little trucks and wooden dolls into each other, pretending they were conversing. I laugh as I see this and speak over the noise. "Hey, Bonnie," I say.

"Yes?"

"I am surprised to see that not even one of these kids have a tablet or electronic device in their little hands."

"They were taught that way. They'll catch up eventually. By the way," she looks and Judy and me. "Are you ready for some breakfast?"

Breakfast featured blueberry pancakes doused in butter and maple syrup, fresh grown grapes and fresh squeezed orange juice, which is the best breakfast I've had in my life; a lot to compare to the blueberry bagel and coffee I have every morning. Speaking of coffee, I walked up to Bonnie inside the house after finishing breakfast, and as I did, she handed me a steaming mug of coffee topped with whipped cream and caramel. "Judy told me you'd want coffee. This is our strongest coffee beans we grow, brewed just for you. And I topped it with whipped cream and caramel. Enjoy."

I take the coffee from her paw and walk to Judy, who was sitting on the blanket outside. I walked by her and motioned my head towards the porch swing by the back door.

"Hi," she says as she sits next to me. "How's the coffee?"

"Great," I say, taking another sip. I could feel the caffeine enter me and wake me up by the second sip. After the fourth sip my phone rang. "Sorry, I have to take this."

I put the phone to my ear and hold my coffee with my left hand. "Hello?"

"Wilde."

The tone was easy to recognize. "Chief, I'm sorry to inform you, but I'm in the middle of something."

"Yes, but this is an emergency. Your house was just _broken into_. One of your neighbors just called and reported it."

Say what? No. _Not_ true. Karma's hitting me bad right now. I really _am_ the bad fox.

I stood there, incredulous. So much so that I dropped the mug in my hand and it fell safely into the grass, but the contents did not survive and emptied. "Is there any evidence?"

"That's what I called to talk to you about. You're our second-best officer, Wilde, and frankly, we need you and Hopps to come solve the case. Where are you?"

"About 200 miles away," I say, looking at the wall. "In Bunnyburrow. I can take the shuttle."

"Good. Get here as soon as possible. Whoever broke into your house left quickly. The faster you get here, the closer the suspect is to the city. We don't want him or her to flee the country."

"Understood. Give me 2 hours."

"Given."

Oh, I am _so_ dead. Insurance _sure_ won't pay for this.

I hang up and become aware of the hot liquid on my pants. I pick the cup off the ground and walk inside. As doing so I found remnants of the coffee that spilled onto my pants after dropping it. I must've been such is shock that I was oblivious to the pain. "Bonnie."

She looks at me and takes the cup. "Something's wrong."

I nod. "Yes. Something just came up. Someone broke into our house at home, so I need to leave early. I also spilled coffee on my pants."

"Oh, okay. I enjoyed having you here."

I grab Judy - who objects - and head to the station. As we wait she riddles me with questions. "What are you _doing_?"

"Going home."

" _Why_?"

I squat down to her height and frown. "Carrots... someone broke into our house. Chief Bogo wants us to get home as quickly as possible."

And I thought Bogo would call Carrots. I guess not; yet another reason to pester Bogo's dignity.

She looked as incredulous as I did for a moment, impassive, excepting her large eyes. The only word she said was "Oh."

I wish I was her.

The train arrives, and I enter, dragging Judy to her seat. I sit and stare out the window. When I went to give huge speeches, this is how I felt. Anxious. Worried. I found myself catastrophizing to myself about what the house would look like. I could vision it: the TV gone, couches ripped up, glass shattered and piled on the ground, broken walls. One minute I even imagined the house engulfed in flames as we approached. By the time I finished with my anxiety spree, worry replaced it, along with anger and sadness. I wanted to walk up to whomever had done this and throw him off a cliff into alligator-infested waters. I wanted to slap this mammal across the face and stomp him into oblivion. I wanted to grasp him or her by his or her scrawny neck and wring it like a towel.

Sadness crept in. Thousands of dollars in damages. Insurance wouldn't cover it and I would lose my job. Or worse.

Judy noticed my pool of feelings and acknowledged them. "Do you remember that time when you were assigned to give that huge speech when you received your graduation certificate?"

"Yes," I say. I could remember every detail: three hundred mammals spread out in chairs over the lawn. I had my speech in hand, and my heart pounded at my chest. My paws were shaking more than a mammal with Parkinson's disease. I could feel sweat on my brow. My knuckles would have soaked through a bath towel. It felt like I had just dunked my head in the ocean for half an hour. And this is exactly how I felt - except add up the feelings before twelve speeches. That's how I felt. As anxious as myself before thirteen speeches.

"How did you counteract those feelings?"

Before I went up for the graduation speech that fateful day, Judy stopped me before I went up. She told me a quote from Theodore Moosevelt: "Each time we face our fear, we gain strength, courage, and confidence in the doing."

"I had confidence as I faced my fear." I thought I could feel some confidence.

I did, in fact, get through the speech that day. I saw my fear as a puny little robber. I snatched it by the collar and threw it away. What replaced that was confidence and excitement.

But that was back then.

"Does this mean that you should be worried now?" She says.

"No," I say. But I knew that it wasn't that easy for fear and anxiety to get away from me. It was like one of those robbers that I hated: the ones that never give up. They escape from jail. No matter what I did, they would come back a day, a month, or even a year later. "But I still feel worried." Words could not describe how I felt then.

"Okay, let me show you something," she extends her arm out and locks it at the elbow. She held her palm of her paw at me. "Punch this."

"Why?"

"Just do it."

I curl my hand into a fist and thrust it at Judy's open paw, hard, but not my full strength. She winces, shakes her paw and returns it to her side. "Now, I want you to punch your own paw."

I spread my left paw out and thrust my right paw, curled into a fist, at it. She smiles and looks at me. "Fear is like this. When you worry to yourself, you punch yourself. You feel pain in your fist and in your palm. You feel anxious and worried. But when you punch someone else's palm, you only feel that pain in your fist. I feel that pain in my palm; and sometimes I absorb that pain and feel nothing. So, don't worry to yourself. Some people know how to handle some things. Do you want me to tell you a secret?"

"Sure," I say. "I would like that."

She cups her paws over the entrance to my left ear and speaks. "I took a year of psychology in high school. I know how to handle it."

We separate, and I look at her. I felt relieved. This time when I looked out the window, I felt love and peace. Through the power of the mind I defeated the robber. The pain and suffering.

We arrived shortly in Savannah Central. We walk through the mall: up escalators, through crowds of mammals, and finally to the ZPD. Bogo greets us at the front and leads us into a private conference room. I have no idea why Bogo sent us here; it might as well could've been a birthday party. Oh, I wish it was.

"First," Bogo starts, "I'd like to fill you in with some information."

Some information? What is this, a geometry class? Aren't we supposed to go to our house? Bogo told us that the perpetrator is getting farther away, and Bogo is being a hypocrite by delaying us even further, when he asked us to get here fast in the first place. Is this a scam? Is everything bogus? Did Bogo just get us down here to scold me for spilling that coffee on the printer last week? And don't criticize - it was an accident.

Geez, I need some help.

All Bogo filled us in with is the instructions of what to do at the scene. I think this is a geometry class. I thought we learned this at the academy. Isn't the reexamination next month? If this is a reexamination, do I get credit for falling asleep?

I only did for like - ten minutes. Nobody noticed, I assume so. I did get woken up by Bogo's yelling directed at me. So, I guess someone _did_ notice.

Finally, Bogo excuses us to the scene. I also found that he waited 2 1/2 hours for us to get here, and sitting there, looking at Furbook the entire time. Just kill me. Shoot me in the head with a RPG.

I jump in the car, alongside Judy and she pulls out. I sit in silence, still incredulous as to why Bogo was such an idiot. I diminish the fact as we approach. Still standing, good. It felt good to approach it. No windows broken, nothing disturbed on the outside, except for the police tape surrounding our front yard. The inside was a different story.

Remember how I said to kill me earlier? Throw my dead body into a lava pit. Make sure I'm dead.

The inside of the house looked like a tiger had just gone savage inside of it. The TV was gone - alongside every other electronic device in the house. I still had my phone, but my charger was gone.

Remember the pit of lava you drowned me in? Add water and mix until no lava is visible. Let cool. Launch cooled lava rock into sky and out of galaxy.

My table was knocked over, my back door was broken, and a visible dent shown in my door. My door. My table. My everything. Adding to the already torturous scenery, my third most valuable possession (beside my phone and Judy, which I had) was gone.

My secret stash of money in the safe. The safe was gone. So, I'm going to say the safe is my third most prized possession.

Now remember the rock you sent into space with my remains in it? You might as well throw it into the sun. No, throw it into a black hole.

The safe, my electronics, my everything was gone.

Just blow up the sun. I don't need to live anymore. Please just envision the house I did earlier. This is much worse.

* * *

 **PLEASE READ BOTTOM PARAGRAPH; AS AFOREMENTIONED.**

 **Hello, guys, CrazyWriter here. I thank anybody who has read this chapter. I will publish a new chapter of Try and Fail between the time periods of 3 days and three months. If you want to give me suggestions, please do so, and anybody who also wants to ask a question, to add something to this current chapter or suggest something for a future chapter, please PM me or send me an email (address is in my profile) and I will get back to you as soon as I can. Any constructive criticism is appreciated, but please try to avoid flares, as they will not be tolerated and will be immediately removed and/or reported. Thank you for your cooperation.**

 **NOTE: Guest reviews cannot be replied to. If you wish to allow me to reply to you, please review with an authorized FanFiction account.**

 **Disclaimer: I am not involved in the creation, distribution, or design of any of the characters, settings, or personalities involved with any involved characters or settings already mentioned. The original characters are a property of Disney© and Disney Animation Studios©.**

 ***IMPORTANT* I need ideas for my stories. Please PM me, email (in profile bio), or place a suggestion in the reviews ASAP and you will receive chapters quicker. No suggestions equals delayed publish times. Required fields to submit a story idea:**

 **- _Must_ be related to  Disney's** **© Zootopia.**

 **- _Must_ be K+ rated.  No lewd, inappropriate, sexual or any other arousing ideas that are not K+ rated; but minor romantic scenes are okay.**

 **- _Must_ involve Nick and/or Judy in some way.**

 **I will DM you whether or not your idea follows the above fields. Whomever suggests an idea that I use in a story will be featured in the author's note. Please notify me (include it with your story idea) if you wish for this not to happen. If you do not ask for this to be the case, you will be mentioned. Thanks!**


	4. Worse - Part 2

**Chapter 4 - Worse - Part 2**

All I wish is to address someone about this. Hurt somebody. Reprimand someone.

I wish I would come home to our little house in the street, my fingers weaved into Judy's. I would enter and kiss her as I did so, and flash a big smile. We would talk, and have no worries about the abuse of our house. I would never had gone through the trouble of taking this perpetrator into custody, and I would recline in my bed and open a good book. Judy would walk in, and I'd begin reading to her. She'd sit on my lap while I conveyed the information to her. She'd hold my paw and smile, and stare deeply into my eyes.

But this idiot jumped in and took the spotlight. He left as quickly as he came, but he left a mess bigger than my aunt's house after Thanksgiving. Our doors and chairs stood broken, couches torn like I had run my claws through them - and speaking of, I must get Judy to take me and get my nails trimmed - and glass shattered on the floor, waiting to be stepped on like a patch of land mines. And I sure want to get revenge on this guy. He's not going without a fight.

The anger left me and sadness replaced it. I close my eyes and whine quietly to myself and surrender my body to the torn couch. I avoid glancing up at the mess. Compression on the left side of the cushion I sat on sent comprehension through me – Judy sat there. She lay her small arm on my back and turn my head with her paw. As she analyzes my wet eyes, and I let out another whine.

"Nick," she whispers, shedding a tear of her own, and stood up, using my chest as support. "I know this is hard. I feel the same that you do. And I know you're angry at the person who did this," she runs her thumb on my cheek and removes the visible tear. "I'm angry too – and I didn't start off well. This is my house too. But we got to keep our cool - we're on the job." Her eyes gaze down at my hand spread across my thigh.

I sob and surrender my head to her. She reaches around my head and strokes the back of my neck with her paw. "But," I whisper, my emotions as unbalanced as a bowling ball on a piece of paper, standing upright on top of a tightrope, over a three-hundred-foot cliff. "I - I know we're on the job. But sometimes I wish we were free from all these problems. And," I smile lightly and raise my index finger in the air. "sometimes those problems can't be fixed. Like you."

"You know what?" She grits her teeth and laughs angrily. "I'll get you back for that." She quickly breaks the barrier between my arms and my stomach, and now her paws were on it. She bends her fingers and quickly moves them in a complicated motion across my stomach, like she's trying to perform surgery by clawing into my abdomen.

"Stop," I yell, laughing like a three-year old child. "Please… Stop!"

"Maybe later," she says. She halts the movement, and my limbs, curled up in a ball like I was to be stomped on, released, and again rest themselves back on the torn furniture.

"You're ticklish?" She says.

"No; Take me to being abdominally sensitive."

She scoffs and leans in to accomplish another spree of tickling, but I stop her at the opportune moment. "I don't want that again… please."

"Just because you said please." She untenses her hands and surrender them to her side. "But that doesn't mean I can't do this!"

Judy crawls up onto my legs like a newborn child. "What are you doing?" I ask.

"Don't worry," she says, lurching closer and closer. She leaps onto me and locks her lips onto mine. We kissed for ten seconds before a voice interrupted us.

"Wilde. Hopps."

I quickly separate from her and look at the source of the sound. Bogo stood in front of us, his hands on his hips. He curved his mouth into a frown and clenched his teeth. "Wilde, Hopps. Work is not the appropriate place for demonstrating affection. You're on duty. Don't let me catch you again, or I'll fire you. Understood?"

Heat, like I stepped into the July sun, lands directly on top of me like a three-hundred-pound weight dropped from my brother's sister's uncle's trainer, who won the national "weight lifting with your pinkie" championship. Judy's face reddens like a bucket of red paint, a batch of tomatoes, and a bucket of red watercolor thrown onto a white wall. As I quickly glance at him, we both nod apprehensively. "Yeah, sorry. It was her fault..." I quickly direct my left index finger at her like a drunk mammal hung upside down, blindfolded, and dunked headfirst into a bat of black paint.

"Please don't let me catch you again. Now, I need some information. We've found a significant amount of evidence which has a possibility of finding a suspect. I need you two to get this evidence over to the specimen and evidence unit at the ZPD."

"Sure," I say, and Bogo produces a bag of specimen and evidence. "I'll get you the results as soon as possible." Bogo nods and walks away. With the specimen in my paw, I use the other to grasp Judy's paw and we both stroll outside. I survey the scene and find a yellow car in our driveway labeled "taxi". I sigh and we both enter the yellow vehicle. The driver at the anterior of the car turned his head toward us and curled his mouth into a gruff smile. "Where to?"

"The Zootopia Police Department, please," I point to myself and Judy, alternating for ten seconds. "Doesn't it look obvious?" I keep my mouth still and firm, my lips tucked inward.

The driver chuckles. "No matter the dress of the rider, I can't assume to go somewhere. I'm not even allowed to assume a nude rider would want to go to that naturalist club. And speaking of, I did have a nude rider last Tuesday. Let's say it was the-"

Judy covered her eyes with her paws as if she stood inside the frightening or – empathizing Judy – kooky Mystic Springs Oasis. "Could you please not bring that up?"

"Oh, sorry," the driver says as he backs from the driveway. "I was a bit... eccentric there."

Judy ignores him and turns to me. "I lov-"

The driver slams on the breaks and the car veers to a stop from its already slow depart. "Here's a ground rule," the driver frowns and directs his eyes at the rearview mirror. "In my cab, I don't want to hear, nor see any involvement in any... mushy-gushy stuff – like that, 'I want to kiss you, mwah, mwah, mwah." He curls his lips into a circle, folds both paws in between each other, and looks dreamily at the two passengers sarcastically. After a moment, he reverts his face back to his original. "Save that for somewhere else, okay?" The car starts off again.

Judy's eyes widen as she examines my eyes again. "What?" She yells at me, but means to direct it at the driver.

"Did you hear what I said?" The driver calls, his eyes still fixed on the road.

"Yes," Judy's eyes were still fixed on me. "But isn't it against the rules to make comments about the passengers of your cab?"

"No," the driver corrects. "The city changed its policy. They said that cab drivers have permission to converse with their passengers if no sexual, lewd or inappropriate comments are made."

Judy refused to take her eyes off me. "Well, I don't agree with that policy. I don't want to be talked to, thanks." She shuts the window joining the front and back sections of the taxi.

I look at her again, and our stares were as we had never left. She smiled, but I could see strain in her eyes. I couldn't shake the feeling she wanted something. "What do you want, Carrots? This is not a begging contest. If you refrain from keep doing that, I can buy us lunch after this."

She smiles. "At any place I want?"

I had no choice. "Yes, any place you want."

What have I gotten myself into? I'm not up to going to a prey restaurant right now. But I would enjoy it more than Judy constantly staring at my hot, sweaty face. And the hot is not the handsome type. I meant by temperature. And I sure don't like anyone staring at my collar that is wetter than my fur after a ten-minute shower. In clothes.

She releases her grip on my shirt and returns to her sitting position. After a moment, the car stops and the window opens – the one Judy had closed earlier. The cab driver turns his head toward us. "That'll be eighty-six dollars and ten cents." He taps on the mile reader on the top of the window separating us from him.

I stare at him like he signed up for a cliff diving contest in the middle of winter. "Are you crazy? Wait a minute – no. You are crazy. We barely drove half a mile. And I'm not paying for this. Neither is she."

"You can either pay, or I call the city council to have a nice, pleasant chat with you. Otherwise, you could go the easy way, and pay up." He held out his large paw.

Wait. So, Chief Buffalo-Butt didn't even pay for our cab ride, even though he assigned us both to go somewhere. That's why I should make fun of him - he's incredibly cheap - like me - but _I_ got hustled. And I'm the one who usually hustles other people. I'm not used to being a recipient of a good hustling - except for Judy hustling me. I almost got jailed for tax exemption for not paying my eight percent of the 1.4 million I had earned over the twenty years of my life.

"Here," I set a neat stack of eight tens and six ones on his waiting paw. He smiles, takes the money, and – I swear – counts it as slowly as he possibly could have. I guarantee Flash could do it faster. After the time-consuming, occasional-sneeze-and-cough wait, he looks up from the cash. "You're ten cents short."

"Check again."

"As he looks down at the money, I quietly escape from the odorous cab and slyly slip out. The driver opens the window and looks out, finding nobody. "Where'd you jerks go?"

I walk up to him and toss a dime into his cabin. "I'm gonna have to talk to the city council for this."

His eyes widen. He closes the window, and the engine resumes and he speeds off. I swear my foot almost got caught because he slammed on the gas as soon as I stepped out. Jerk.

She wipes both of her paws together and smiles at me. "Aren't we going to take that in, or what?"

I look down at my empty paw. Gone. Quickly, I examined my pockets, and yielded identical results. "Uh, I can't take the specimen in if I don't have it."  
She whips around and her expression changed faster than my brother high on alcohol. "What do you mean, you don't have it?"

My eyes widen. "I'm serious," I object, holding both arms from my body. "I don't have it."

She stomps up to me and stabs her finger into my abdomen. She glares up at me, nostrils flaring. "You better not be joking, or I will personally tell everybody on the dang planet your deepest secret."

I cock my eyebrow and quickly squint at her. "You wouldn't."

"Only if you're joking," she holds up my phone - MY phone - to the side of her. "I'm ready to post it on Tweeter."

"Hey, give that back," I snap, reaching for it. She pulls it away as I lunge and I meet my friend - the pavement, personally encountering it. I lay, practically making out with it, when Judy walked up in front of me.

She held the phone in her earth-forbidden hand and held it from my reach. "C'mon, Carrots. Please give that back."

"So, are you joking or not?" She flashes a sly smile, cocks her head to the left and makes a cunning pose. "Otherwise you can say bye-bye to your dignity."

I close my eyes, my chin meeting the pavement. "No, I'm not faking. I don't have it. Really."

"Good," she says, placing my phone face-down in front of me. I get back up on my feet, and Judy walked back and forth, her eyebrows curled forward to augment her anger. She ran her fingers up her left arm, then gripped her head tightly like a softball player would hold a bowling ball. "So, now what are we going to do?" She yells.

I reach into my pocket and pull out the evidence. "Turn the evidence in."

"What do you mean? We don't have..." she spots the plastic bag in my paw. 'You jerk!" She swings a playful fist and me. It swings through the air and I feel a dull bump to my left temple, and quickly examine it with my left paw. "Why'd you do that for?"

"Oh, sorry, Nick," she looks up at me, her mouth turned in concern. "Um, you don't look good."

"Nonsense." I say, looking at her again. The illuminated sky became darker and darker, as if I had commanded it to. She screamed guiltily, and the illuminated sky became so dark, I became blind. This blindness encompassed me, but I could not feel anything. These feelings dissipated, as if I was lying in bed – that one moment where I couldn't decipher the difference between being awake and being asleep.

I woke in a room illuminated by the daylight sun. The ground featured beautiful white tile – almost as beautiful as the sun itself. I reach my paw above my head and find a silky bandage tied around it. A figure sitting directly adjacent to me sat still with a book in her hands. I was connected to a large machine that beeped one and a half times per second. The figure sitting next to me smiled at me. She wore a police uniform, it featured a black cover located on her chest and was strapped to her underarm and joined at her shoulder blades. Much of the uniform was light blue, and two wrist straps and feet straps that were black. Two tall grey ears with pink pinna stood erect atop her head like a soldier ready for battle. The tips of her ears were a color between rocket metallic and taupe gray, like a mixture of white, gray, and black. Her eyes featured exquisite purple irises that conveyed her enthusiastic, pleasing, and warm presence.

She walked up to me and squeezed me across the chest. "What is this, a hugging competition?" I yell, and shove her out of the way. She gasped and stared blankly at me. "Nick? What is up with you?" Her stare was blank, yet she looked surprised simultaneously.

"How do you know my name?" I say. For some reason, I had some bunny in my room considering my eyes dreamily like a prince on those corny fairy tales looking at a princess, and vice versa.

"Duh, I've been with you for half a year already." She says, planting both hands on her hips.

"Don't get cocky," I say, grinning slyly. "I don't want some police officer bossing me around. Even if she looks at me like Ms. Dreamy Eyes."

Now she looked worried. "Is something wrong?"

"No," I snap. "Except I'm being bossed around by you."

"It is quite interesting to see you before you met me. I'll play along."

"Play along?" I say, confused. "I don't know you!"

"Sure, Mr. Recipient of Dreamy Eyes. Do you want me to prove that I know you?"

"Sure. Try me. I'm going to ask you a question that only my family and my loved one would know, but I don't have a loved one, so..." I pause. "Anyway, here's the question: what nickname did my mom call me for the 18 years I was in the house?"

She answers instantly. "Nickety-Split."

My jaw drops lower than I can touch my toes. "How'd you know that? Okay, anyway, I'll ask one only I would know."

"Okay," she replies confidently. "Shoot."

Again, the familiar heat passes over me like a bowling ball wouldn't. "When I need to use the bathroom, what do I do?"

She makes a crooked smile. "Weird question. Anyway, you put on a fake smile, you cross your legs and try to distract whomever recognizes that you need to go. Oh, and you tend to blush on this type of subject. You're doing it right now."

"Either you're psychic or you were with me for six months. I still don't believe you."

"Here," she whips out her phone. "I'll prove it to you. Go to your messages on your phone."

I glance around. "Where exactly-"

"Right on the table to the right of you," she points in the general vicinity. "You have it yet?"

"Slow down," I say, picking up my phone next to the table. A password came up. "I can't get in. I don't remember my password."

"Here," she walks over to me and types in the password. "There you go."

She knows my password too? Wow, I was with her for a while. Or she knows how to hack into my phone while simultaneously faking my number. "Okay," I say as I open my phone and go to the texting app. "What do I go to?"

She walks up to me and scans it. "I think Carrots is the one," she taps it, both of my paws on the back of my phone. A series of messages pop up, and I read one on the right side, the ones I sent.

Carrots, luv you and c u when I get home. We can watch a movie together later. -Nick

My eyes widen. "Is this us? Is this even real?"

"It's as real as you are my boyfriend," she smiles and sets her thumbs up to text. "Here, I'll send you a text. I'll read it at the same time so you know It's not fake," she begins typing. "Nick, I don't know why you don't remember me. Plz come back. Love Judy."

Sure enough, her text came up as the same words she conveyed. My eyes widen. "So, I did know you. And I knew you well."

After the words left my mouth, a fox dressed in white clothes enters the room. "Good morning."

"Hello, doctor." I say calmly as he walks up to me.

"I need to check him for a moment, Ms. Hopps. Do you mind leaving for a moment?"

"Sure." She stands and leaves the room, shutting the door behind her. I smile again, and the doctor looks over me. "So how did this happen? I can see that you've sustained a minor concussion per this report."

"I don't remember," I say, shrugging. "I assume something hit my head."

"Well, before we do anything else, I need to ask you a couple questions."  
"Okay," I say, smiling. "Go ahead."

"What's your full name?"

"Nicholas Piberius Wilde."

"How old are you?"

"32."

"When's your birthdate?"

"July 9th, 1984."

"When did you come here?"

"I've lived here all my life."

"What is your current employment?"

"I'm homeless. I live under a bridge."

He squints. "That's not right."

"How would you know?"

"Your friend told me."

"So, what is my job?"

"You're a police officer at the Zootopia Police Department."

"Okay," I say, confused. "Now what?"

"Well, Mr. Wilde, you have temporary amnesia. It's dated from around six months ago. After I check you for additional injuries, I will allow your friend to come back in and confirm that you do have amnesia. For now, I need to check for any additional injuries."

He asks me to remove my hospital gown, so after I sat with only underpants to gird my humility. He checks my abdomen, chest, breathing, blood pressure and legs and ankles. After, I don my hospital gown and return to my bed. Judy walks back in and smiles at me again. She walks up to me and asks a series of questions.

"Nick," she says, and I look up. She smiles again and continues. "Do you remember the last time we kissed?"

Me? Kiss her? Crazy. Insane. I wouldn't kiss anyone, alive or dead. Except my mom, of course. "No, I wouldn't do that."

She shrugs. "That was before we left to go... nevermind. Anyway, what were you filed for when I hustled you on the day of the night howler case?"

This is getting crazier by the moment. Night howler case? Me, hustled? No way. Me, filed for something? No way. I would have had the perfect permits for whatever I did. "I don't remember any of that."

"Ok, but that was for tax exemptions." she shrugs again and glances at the doctor, and back at me. "Last one. What were you doing for your job, 365 days a year since you were twelve?"

I glance nervously at the doctor. "I can't tell you with him in here..."

"Well, at least you know. You don't have to answer that," She turns to the doctor. "I think we're done here. Let's go discuss this outside."

The doctor leads Judy outside while I lay in the bed and frown. After a moment, they enter again. "Mr. Wilde," the doctor says.

"Yes?" I ask, concerned.

"Are you sure you don't remember what happened, to make you forget everything?"

"Nope."

The doctor looks at Judy and back at me. "Well, I'm going to diagnose you with amnesia. Your friend here-" he gestures to Judy.

"Judy - Judy Hopps." she says with a smile.

"Your friend Judy tells me that she unintentionally slugged you in the head. Do you remember any of this?"

I roll my eyes. "How many times do I have to tell you? I don't remember anything."

Two hours later, the doctor releases us both. I exit the warm hospital and step into the cold air. It stung my back, but not to the point where I keeled down in pain. "It's cold out here."

"I know," Judy says. "I'm starting to miss the old you."

"I am the old me." I smile.

"I meant the one before I hit you in the head. You were so... romantic."

"I think I'd prefer staying like this, thanks."

"Oh, trust me, you'll sure as heck be missing the other you. I still like you now, but you're cockier. The other one was nicer."

I roll my eyes. "Oh, geez, Carrots."

She turns her head towards me and flashes a big grin. "I think you're already recovering."

"Why?"

"You just called me Carrots."

"Well, it seemed to fit you."

She slaps me on my shoulder and begins to sprint to the taxi waiting on the street. "Beat ya there!"

"Rabbit," I yell as she sprints away.

All I can say is that she is beautiful. And cute. Not gonna lie.

* * *

 **PLEASE READ BOTTOM PARAGRAPH.**

 **Hello, guys, CrazyWriter here. I thank anybody who has read this chapter. I will publish a new chapter of Try and Fail between the time periods of 3 days and three months. If you want to give me suggestions, please do so, and anybody who also wants to ask a question, to add something to this current chapter or suggest something for a future chapter, please PM me or send me an email (address is in my profile) and I will get back to you as soon as I can. Any constructive criticism is appreciated, but please try to avoid flares, as they will not be tolerated and will be immediately removed and/or reported. Thank you for your cooperation.**

 **NOTE: I cannot reply to guest reviews. If you wish for me to reply, please review with an authorized, non-guest FanFiction account.**

 **Disclaimer: I am not involved in the creation, distribution, or design of any of the characters, settings, or personalities involved with any involved characters or settings already mentioned, including, but not limited to: Nick Wilde, Judy Hopps, Benjamin Clawhauser, Chief Bogo, Stu Hopps, and Bonnie Hopps. The original characters are a property of Disney© and Disney Animation Studios©.**

 ***IMPORTANT* I need ideas for my stories. Please PM me, email (in profile bio), or place a suggestion in the reviews ASAP and you will receive chapters quicker. No suggestions equals delayed publish times. Required fields to submit a story idea:**

 **- _Must_ be related to  Disney's** **© Zootopia.**

 **- _Must_ be K+ rated.  No lewd, inappropriate, sexual or any otherwise arousing ideas that are not K+ rated; but minor romantic scenes are accepted and encouraged.**

 **- _Must_ involve Nick and/or Judy in some way.**

 **I will DM you whether or not your idea follows the above fields. Whomever suggests an idea that I use in a story will be featured in the author's note. Please notify me (include it with your story idea) if you wish for this not to happen. If you do not ask for this to be the case, you will be mentioned. Thanks!**


	5. Stranger

**Chapter 5 - Stranger**

"Get up!"

I look up, and Judy's eyes meet mine. She was smiling like a three-year old with a toy truck.

"What time is it?" I object, closing my eyes.

"8:30," she replies. "Now, get up!"

"Give me another... twenty minutes." I resolve, rolling over onto my right side. I wanted to cherish the comfort of my soft bed. Why in the heck was Judy in here in the first place?

"C'mon," she insisted, tugging at my sleeve. "Our Saturday can't be wasted."

Days prior to that, our house was broken into - which I didn't know of. Some idiot decided to break in, I guess. Previously considering that our house is surrounded by police tape, the best bet would be to reside at a hotel, so that's what we did. We rented a 2-bed hotel and have resided for the past night. I can vaguely remember our house.

I found myself standing from the bed in agony. I stretch my arms above my head, still skeptical as to why I lived with this bunny, and why I got here in the first place. I also pondered on a larger shirt - this one ascended above my waistline when I raised my arms in the air to stretch. I yet out a yawn.

To sum it up, Judy fell for my exhaustion and went to the breakfast area, mistakenly believing I was plodding behind. Unfortunately, I had fallen asleep, again, and she returned fifteen minutes later and found me in my state of unconsciousness. Things went downhill after that and she lugged me downstairs, despite all my complaints, and whipped up a plate of food from the complimentary breakfast.

A breakfast and two full tummies later, we return to the room. I found that social interaction, especially with someone you met, and had been with for six months, is quite challenging. Especially difficult when this said mammal you attempt to speak to is your opposite gender and your crush. Take the night earlier.

As soon as we had arrived and checked in, I scampered to the room and stuck to my phone like glue to paper. I tried to avoid all social interaction, but it was like two opposites, night and day, good and bad, except that it was extrovert vs introvert. She riddled me with useless questions about my day, and the hospital stay, and a whole bunch of useless junk. As charismatic as I was capable of being, I bid farewell to Judy, and the night ended.

Shortly after we return, the water pipes granted me a heaven on earth, of which I like to call it. The warm, refreshing shower of translucent liquid poured and launched off me. I occasionally glanced up at the shower head, checking my scalp for any bald spots - I didn't want to risk scampering off to the store for anti-shedding shampoo. For any information regarding the subject, some substances used in this said anti-shedding medication I may or may not be slightly intolerant to. Not a whole, "I'm gonna die if I inhale the fumes or get a drop on my finger" type intolerance. All I can provide is the warning label on the shampoo - "If minor rash or severe itchiness persists following use, discontinue use."

As the same as any other time, I fortunately found no sign of bald spots. Shedding was minimal also during this "heaven on earth". One thing about foxes is that we shed, a lot. One thing I retained from high school health class is that the primary sign of adulthood in foxes is regular shedding. And fortunately (even though I may not show it mentally), I am quite mature. Unless you consider thirty-two a sign of reaching childhood.

The most mentally degrading process following a shower is the drying process. When water touches my fur (but I'm not sure if it's with any other foxes' fur), it tends to become damper than my last bout with a leaky dishwasher and with only one towel available in the entire house. I find that I must use a fur dryer, plugged in to the wall. I spend about five minutes removing any bout of excess water by a towel shortly following the shower. Then after that, I slip on my clothes and sometimes must undress multiple times because I miss a major wet spot on my fur.

Another thing is the tail. It sometimes has a mind of its own. By that, I mean that I can control it if I want to, but my instincts automatically allow it to perform whatever it finds pleasurable to torture me. Dressing in pants is one of those problems. Sometimes I wish I were a rabbit - Judy, for example. Her tail is so small and fluffy, and I imagine that clothing is straightforward. For me, I must tuck my tail through a hole manufactured through the posterior. And sometimes I find that doing this can lead to some pain, such as a time when I completely miss and bend the end of my tail. Fortunately, my skeleton is flexible.

Ending at the last step - brushing. Keeping fur groomed in an essential part of etiquette for any mammal with fur. Alignment of tail fur to produce an essential attractiveness. Unfortunately, this process generously contributes approximately ten minutes to the already time-consuming process. Moreover, nudity is abstained in the public, so shielded fur doesn't have to be tended as roughly as the arms (if you repeatedly wear short-sleeved shirts, like me), top of the head, and tail (if it is of substantial size to groom).

Development of shampoo has increased in the past ten years. We have extensive amounts of shampoo, some ranging of prices from five dollars for 16 oz., or as far as two-hundred for the same size. The prices of my shampoo range on the middle of the scale, mine being Muzzle and Tail brand for an easy $80 a bottle. Mine lasts about three months. Sometimes I see some of those guys my size going through that size ten times in three months. Every year sets me back $320 in shampoo.

Cologne is another thing - expensive as heck itself. I tend to be extremely picky with cologne, mine currently being the city's hottest - Al La Fox. The smell is so attractive that I can't explain it. Judy seems to like it. She wouldn't enjoy it if I went with those cheap, spray-on colognes that smell like a dumpster in a radioactive plant that was recently urinated on. No thanks, Zaxe.

Unfortunately, my cologne and shampoo were left at my house at the time of the robbery and I did not have access to them. The best resource I had was the small, complimentary bottles of Bed, Bath and Bleat shampoo that feel like liquid metal on my skin. Hopefully we won't stay here too long.

After the lackadaisical process of tending my hygienic needs, I knew what I really needed was the key of my day - the starter. The match that lit the kindling to the firewood. My coffee - yet another subject to ramble on. Another necessity I need exactly right, and it's a good thing that I like it. Just don't give me black and I'll be fine. To get me in the right mood, give me a caramel frappe with extra whipped cream.

How do I know this? The brain is an amazing thing. Even though I was konked in the temple by my own roommate, I can still recollect some important information in the last six months. For a reason beyond my own comprehension, I forgot Judy's own existence and my appliance as a law enforcement officer.

I opened my hand, illogically attempting to use the Force like Duke Skywalker. Instantaneously, A black coffee enters my hand. I look up and find Judy looking at me. "What have you been doing for the past twenty-five minutes?"

After attempting to relay the pain of maintaining personal hygiene, she cut me off. "Uh, I don't even need to hear it. I heard it from here, and I can find it reasonable. Fortunately, a morning shower isn't a bad thing."

Oh, boy. I can already detect her "interrogation mode". She speaks with such seriousness, if she was a male fox, it could mislead me to think I wasn't me. I stood, loathingly sipping the black coffee with such sincerity I could have turned medusa into stone.

"Playing the silent game, huh?" She punched me in the shoulder. I laugh and pretend to splash my beverage all over her. "If you did that," she clenched her fist. "You'd get it."

"I'd like to pop a question," I say, taking another sip of my coffee, and laboriously attempting to suppress the gag reflex. "Why do we live at our house?

"Long story," she gestures toward the door. "And I presume you don't have any available time for that?"

"Actually, I do. Go ahead. Last time I checked, it was Saturday."

It all started with my grandma, which I still remember (and presumably was still alive). She lived at this house, and used to house me as a kid. My grandma died, peacefully, four months earlier from pancreatic cancer. Through her will, I discovered she had dedicated the house to me and given me the full rights to all her possessions, and I quote, "All unmentioned additional items related to the ownership of my household".

From what I knew my grandma was the frugal one of the family. After grandpa died three years earlier, she fruitfully used the money from my grandpa, who was a lawyer. The money went towards a minivan she bought, thankfully.

Remember the "All unmentioned additional item? I was happy for inheriting a minivan until I discovered a fine print located at the bottom of her will: "The minivan will be inherited by Jack Wilde". Jack is my brother.

Shortly following Judy's relay of this information, my phone rings. I open it and hold it to my ear. "This is Nick."

"Hello, s-sir. I'm s-Samuel."

Wrong number? Or did someone deliberately assign this autistic kid to call my number? "Hey, Samuel. I need to know why you called."

"Y-yes. I-I wanted to t-tell you the results of the t-test of the r-r-results we received-"

"Hold on," I say, looking at Judy. _The results_ , I mouth to her. "Yes, sorry. Continue."

"O-okay."

After waiting five seconds, I reply. "Hello?" The line was dead. Great. I cancel the call and shove my phone back into my pocket. "Well, it seems like the 'call' I received turned out to be pretty much fake. Whoever called - some guy who sounded like he had Tourette's - hung up."

"W-" she stops at the sound of the door. We both meet at the origin of the sound, and I whip it open.

Normally, under normal circumstances, being at a hotel is safe. You find a hotel amid fourteen others, and try to get a room during the busiest time of service. So, the only mammals to come to your room is ones that you specifically gave the said location to, including family, or pizza delivery.

Now having a stranger show up at the doorway is a different story, and unfortunately, this was the case. Standing in the doorway, a rose clenched in his misaligned teeth, was a rabbit, looking to be about twenty, wearing blue jeans and a black t-shirt. He wore a ludicrous, toothy smile and his eyes seemed to be completely independent of his mouth, in a smile sense. In general, he was the most inexperienced romantic, if you even want to call him that, I've seen.

The moment Judy's crystal eyes met his dull blue irises, and with a firm flick of the wrist, slammed the heavy door in his face, a mask of dreams. She guarded the door like a police man over a three-ton inventory of diamonds. Overall, her eyes were as big as dinner plates. "Don't you remember him?" She asks after confirming my confused look.

"Nope. But let me handle this - let me confirm - this guy likes you?"

"What's it look like?"

"Well, do you like him?"

"No."

"Enough said. Go hide somewhere. I'll take care of this," I whisper, and she follows my instruction. I slowly open the door, and the same crazy lover stood like a seven-year old trying to confess his love to his girlfriend. "Excuse me, is that for me?" I say.

The rabbit's eyes widen like dinner plates, and his nose twitches. His face flushes and he relocates his rose behind his back. "… No. That was... kinda for… Y'know."

"Let me ask you a question," I ask, and he looks up, mortified. "Why in the name of _anything_ would you hunt down someone, in a hotel, when previously, you were rejected?"

"Because, she's kinda... cute."

Rolling my eyes, I stare at him with eyes of the devil. "There is a distinct difference between a crazy, an insane, and a downright _deranged_ idea. Your idea was so doggone preposterous, I almost mistook you for a twenty-year old homicidal stalker. So how about this," I hold up my police badge. "Instead of trying to sneak up on someone, you do it in a more, non-stalkerish way. And what's even worse, is that you decided to stalk a _police officer_ – Judy's a police officer, too," I say, smiling. I enter a code on the little machine I had retrieved from my police belt, and it produces a slip of paper. "$200 dollar fine for stalking."

"Two-hundred?" He says, taken aback. "No."

"No?" I say, unsurprised. "How about I triple that for disloyalty to law enforcement?"

"No thanks," he mutters. Without another word, he snatches the paper from my paw and stomps from the hallway. Even I should have a decent amount of pity on him, but I guess my profession has already allowed me to ignore emotional disruptions. Shortly after watching his little tail disappear around the bend, I quietly shut the door and call Judy in.

"Thanks," she says, squeezing me around the waist. "As you could previously tell, I didn't want anything to do with that guy."

"Well, you're lucky you have a professional hustler, here." I say, grinning.

"How about this," she says, jumping from the ground, and gracefully planting a kiss on my cheek. She directs herself to the ground. "It's called a hustle, sweetheart." She flashes a sly smile.

"You are a clever bunny," I say. "Y'know what we should do?"

"I'm all ears." Folding her arms across her chest, she smiles.

"When can I get rid of this amnesia?"

* * *

 **PLEASE READ BOTTOM PARAGRAPH.**

 **Hello, guys, CrazyWriter here. I thank anybody who has read this chapter. I will publish a new chapter of Try and Fail between the time periods of 3 days and three months. If you want to give me suggestions, please do so, and anybody who also wants to ask a question, to add something to this current chapter or suggest something for a future chapter, please PM me or send me an email (address is in my profile) and I will get back to you as soon as I can. Any constructive criticism is appreciated, but please try to avoid flares, as they will not be tolerated and will be immediately removed and/or reported. Thank you for your cooperation.**

 **NOTE: I cannot reply to guest reviews. If you wish for me to reply, please review with an authorized, non-guest FanFiction account.**

 **Disclaimer: I am not involved in the creation, distribution, or design of any of the characters, settings, or personalities involved with any involved characters or settings already mentioned, including, but not limited to: Nick Wilde, Judy Hopps, Benjamin Clawhauser, Chief Bogo, Stu Hopps, and Bonnie Hopps. The original characters are a property of Disney© and Disney Animation Studios©.**

 ***IMPORTANT* I need ideas for my stories. Please PM me, email (in profile bio), or place a suggestion in the reviews ASAP and you will receive chapters quicker. No suggestions equals delayed publish times. Required fields to submit a story idea:**

 **- _Must_ be related to  Disney's** **© Zootopia.**

 **- _Must_ be K+ rated.  No lewd, inappropriate, sexual or any otherwise arousing ideas that are not K+ rated; but minor romantic scenes are accepted and encouraged.**

 **- _Must_ involve Nick and/or Judy in some way.**

 **I will DM you whether or not your idea follows the above fields. Whomever suggests an idea that I use in a story will be featured in the author's note. Please notify me (include it with your story idea) if you wish for this not to happen. If you do not ask for this to be the case, you will be mentioned. Thanks!**


End file.
